


only fools rush in

by currahees



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, and george is head over heels, joe toye is a boxer ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-06-27 13:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19791469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/currahees/pseuds/currahees
Summary: "wise men say only fools rush in,but i can't help falling in love with you."ORthe one in which joe is a boxer and george can't help falling in love with his gorgeous fitness instructor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr, my username is speirtons!

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, I could totally run that marathon with you,” George argues, looking at Lipton dead in the eyes.

“Luz, you get outta breath walkin’ up the stairs. You runnin’ a marathon ain't gonna happen,” Bill interjects, laughing.

“I do not!” George defends himself. “That was one time,” he adds quietly.

“You mean every damn time,” Frank mumbles, George punching him.

“I’ll make you a deal, you run this marathon with me and I’ll buy your drinks for the next three months,” Lip offers.

“When’s the marathon again?”

“In a month, better get ready,” Lip grins. Luz shakes his hand, determined to prove all of his friends wrong. It was only a few miles long, it wouldn’t be that hard to run. Right?

//

God, was Luz wrong. It had been two days since he agreed on the bet with Lip and the next morning he had marched himself to the gym near his house and bought a membership. Having spent a few hours on the treadmill, he wanted to die. He could see spots in his vision and he was pretty sure his lungs weren’t working anymore. Looking down at the treadmill, he swore loudly. He was currently on 1 mile out of 6. Yep, he was losing this bet.

“You know, you might want to take a break sometime.”

He whips his head around to where the voice was coming from, forgetting he was on a moving treadmill. He loses his balance and finds himself on the floor, swearing again. The mysterious voice started laughing and George was about to give this guy a piece of his mind, before he stopped.

He found it hard to breathe again, but this was for a different reason. The man looking down at him was _gorgeous._ Warm brown eyes and messy hair with a jawline that gave Bill’s a run for it’s money. And that grin, holy hell. Lips slightly upturned, an eyebrow raised in amusement. George didn’t think he believed in love in first sight until now.

“Need a hand?” The man offers. George gladly accepts it. The man was clearly a regular here, his toned arms said as much. “I’m Joe by the way. Joe Toye.”

“George, but most of my friends call me Luz,” George introduces himself.

“Well, Luz. Wanna tell me why you’re trying to kill yourself on this machine?” He asks, reaching behind Luz to turn the treadmill off.

George laughs awkwardly, mentally kicking himself for being such an embarrassment already. “One of my friends bet that I wouldn’t be able to run a marathon with him, I wanted to prove him wrong.”

“And you thought the best way would be jumping on a treadmill?” Joe asks.

“Yeah, need to get ready for it. Only got a month to train,” George explains.

“A month, huh?” Joe says, thinking out loud. “We can get you trained in a month, but running yourself to death on a treadmill isn’t the way.”

George almost has a heart attack. “We?” He repeats.

“Yeah, I’m a trainer here. Can’t have you dying at my gym, it wouldn’t look good,” he chuckles and George just about collapses. He then starts to calculate the logistics of it all, he could barely afford a gym pass, let alone a personal trainer.

“You don’t have to, I mean I’ll be fine-.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just say I’m looking out for a friend, don’t want anything bad happening to him,” Joe cuts him off, smiling. “So what do you say, meet me here at the same time tomorrow?”

“That sounds great, Joe.”

Joe nods and walks away, before stopping and turning back. “Oh, we won’t be in here tomorrow. Meet me upstairs in room 3, get ready to get your ass kicked,” he winks, leaving George a confused mess.

//

George gets home that night with a million questions on his mind. Unlocking his apartment door, he finds Frank on the couch watching reruns of some old sitcom.

“Luz! How was your first day of training?” He asks, turning the TV down.

George tries to think of an appropriate response, but nothing comes out.

“That bad, huh?” Frank grins.

“I think I’m gonna die,” George mumbles.

“Yeah you are. Listen, buddy, you can always call off the bet,” Frank starts, but stops when George shakes his head and sits down in the chair across from him.

“This guy offered to train me. For free.”

“That’s good, right?” Frank asks.

“Except he looks like a goddamn model and I won’t be able to focus at all when he’s in the room,” George sighs, falling further into the chair.

“Oooooh, sounds like you like this guy.”

“I’ve only spoken to him for 5 minutes, I don’t even know him,” George replies.

“What’s his name?”

“Joe Toye.”

Frank’s mouth falls open, his eyes wide. “Joe Toye? As in _the_ Joe Toye? The famous boxer who was forced to retire because of his injury?” He pulls out his phone and pulls up a quick Google search, showing George his Wikipedia page.

“Fuck, that’s him!” George exclaims, pointing at the picture. “He’s a boxer?”

“One of the best!” Frank replies, scrolling through his phone. “Here look, this explains his injury. He was in a car accident with his friend, other guy escaped with no injuries but Toye bust up his leg real bad. They had no choice but to remove it from the knee down, he couldn’t box again.”

“Fucking hell,” George mumbles, reading the article. Apparently Joe’s been out of the boxing scene for a few years but he’s still regarded as one of the best. “Shit, you see this, Perco?” George asks.

Frank takes his phone back and reads the passage out loud. “’Joe Toye’s boxing classes are elite and almost impossible to get into. The current waiting list is almost 6 months out and will cost you close to $500 per session.’ He must have really liked you, Luz!”

“That’s why he said he was gonna kick my ass tomorrow! I’m so dead, Frank,” George shakes his head. “I gotta cancel, I can’t embarrass myself again in front of him. I won’t recover.”

“Again?” Frank raises an eyebrow.

George sighs, mumbling “I fell off a treadmill in front of him.” Frank bursts into laughter.

“If he still wants to train you after seeing that, he must think there’s hope,” Frank says, between laughter. “You gotta, Luz. Imagine the boys’ reaction when you tell them next week.”

George reluctantly agreed, he couldn’t back out because he was shit scared.

“I guess I’m gonna be boxing with Joe Toye.”


	2. Chapter 2

George showed up to the gym the next day on time and barely manages to find the room. He expects there to be a few other people in the class too, but he walks in and finds the room empty. Apart from Joe stood in the corner, wrapping his hands in tape.

“George! Hey, glad you found the room alright,” he says, finishing his hands and walking over to him.

“Where’s everyone else?” George asks, placing his bag on the floor.

“Everyone else?” Joe asks, confused

“Yeah, I thought you ran classes,” George expands.

Joe’s eyes shift and he suddenly seems more closed off. “You Googled me?”

“No, my roommate did. I didn’t even know that you’re a boxer. Or _were_ a boxer,” George says, cringing at his response.

“Listen, I get it if you don’t wanna be trained by someone who can’t even box anymore. Whatever, forget I said anything,” Joe mumbles.

“No, not at all! You’d be doing me a favour, I don’t wanna embarrass myself. Bill will never let me hear the end of it,” George replies. At this, Joe looks interested.

“Bill? Bill Guarnere?”

“Yeah, he’s one of my friends.”

“We went to college together, I haven’t seen him in years,” Joe says. “I didn’t know he moved back here.”

“You should come round to the bar on 101st sometime, we’re all there on Friday nights usually,” George offers.

Joe considers this for a minute. “If you can make it through this session without passing out, I’ll consider it.”

George grins. “Why are we boxing anyway? I’m running a marathon, not fist fighting.”

“Boxing’s a good way to improve your stamina and strength, plus I think it’s more entertaining than running on the spot for ages,” Joe replies. “Punch me.”

At this, George laughs. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me, punch me,” Joe repeats, moving back and forth between both legs with ease. A part of George wondered what his metal leg looked like but the other part of him was more concerned with dodging Joe’s fist.

“Woah!” George exclaims, jumping back. He puts his fists up as the adrenaline starts flowing through his body, moving back and forth a bit before throwing a punch. Joe blocks it, reversing the punch by grabbing his wrist and holding him in a submission pose, pulling on his arm and elbow. “Ow ow ow ow ow!” George yells. Joe drops him. “You’re good, fuck me.”

“Maybe later, for now, let’s work on throwing a decent punch,” Joe replies, smirking.

“I could punch straight if you stopped flirting with me,” George retorts. Joe laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Follow my lead,” he instructs, demonstrating how to punch without breaking a finger or a fist.

After another excruciating fifty minutes, George is practically dead on his feet. Joe suggests calling it for the day and George is more than happy to agree, panting as he searched through his bag for his water bottle. He finds it and drinks almost the whole thing in one go.

“You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be,” Joe comments, taking a swig of his water.

“You thought I’d be bad?” George replies, hiding his amusement.

Joe nods his head, “You look like you’ve never step foot in a gym before. I’m surprised you haven’t pulled a muscle yet.”

“I did fall off the treadmill yesterday,” George reminds him, earning another small laugh from Joe. “Let me buy you a coffee, as thanks for today,” George adds quickly, trying to gauge Joe.

He hesitates and for a second George think he’s won him over. “I’ve got a class to teach this morning, another time maybe?”

“Yeah, course. Thanks again Joe, I appreciate it,” George says, trying to play it off. “Same time next week?”

“Yeah, see you next week, George.” Joe nods, George swinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving the room. He knew it was too soon but damn he was already finding himself falling for Joe Toye.

//

“And then he said no? Even though he was flirting with you earlier?”

“That’s right, flat out said no. Well, he said ‘maybe another time’ which is just as bad,” George sighs, finishing his drink.

A few of his friends were sat around the table, hanging on to his every word. They had texted him telling him they wanted to hang out tonight, George later found out this was because Frank had spammed their group chat talking about how George was meeting Joe Toye. A few of the boys followed boxing and wanted to know what he was like, which brought George to where he was now. Talking about Joe and trying to get everyone’s opinions.

Bill, having not said a word in a while, finally spoke up. “I’ve known Joe since college. He’s a good guy, a little reserved. The wreck hit him hard and since then I can only imagine he’s been even worse. Don’t write him off yet, Luz.”

“I don’t plan on it,” George replies, adamant on his response.

Frank returned from the bathroom at this point, “Oh yeah, then we can meet him!”

“No,” George glares. “You are not scaring off the only potential guy I’ve liked in years just because you’re a fan of his.”

“C’mon George, we’re not that bad!” Babe argues, wanting to meet him as bad as Frank and a few others.

“Yes you are, remember what you all were like when you met Ron for the first time?” Carwood asks, Ron smiling next to him.

“It’s not our fault your boyfriend looks like a murderer,” Babe whines, “No offence, Ron.”

Ron takes a sip of his beer before replying, “It’s okay, Heffron. Maybe I am. I’d lock my windows tonight if I were you.”

Babe’s eyes widen as he looks to Carwood for help, who starts laughing. “He’s messing with you, Babe.”

“I’m not,” Ron says, Carwood laughs but it does nothing to ease Babe’s nerves. He was definitely locking his window tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks in and George no longer hated working out. Although he’s pretty sure this is 99% to due with his trainer and not the actual working out part. He bounces into the training room, throws his bag down and waits for Joe. Bouncing on the spot, he watches the door. Five minutes turn into ten, ten turns into twenty before it finally opens.

“Hey,” Joe rasps, limping through the doorway.

George is by his side in a second, “Woah, what’s wrong?”

Joe bites his lip and shakes his head, “nothing, I’m good to go if you are,” he insists, wrapping his hands.

“No you’re not,” George shakes his head, refusing to spar with Joe in this condition.

“George, please. Just let me fight,” he says, his eyes full of despair. George hesitates, before agreeing. They make it five minutes into their usual routine before George stops Joe. “What are you doing?” Joe asks, panting heavily as he picks up on George’s lack of involvement.

“I’m not doing this, not when you look like you’re gonna die,” George sits down, his back pressed against the wall. He looks at Joe, glancing back between the space next to him and the stubborn man stood in front of him. Joe caves and lowers himself to the ground, grimacing the whole time. For a split second his gym shorts ride up and George sees the red and irritated skin rubbing against his prosthetic. “Shit, Joe,” he mumbles.

“I’m fine,” Joe snaps, pulling the material of his shorts back down. He clearly wasn’t.

“If you’re so fine, stand up without pulling a face,” George replies. Joe makes direct eye contact with him, lifting himself off the ground. His eyes are wide and he’s trying desperately to not look in pain.

“See, perfectly fine.” Joe says through gritted teeth.

“Sit your ass down and tell me what’s wrong,” George persists. Joe audibly sighs, returning to the floor.

“Some days are like this. It’ll rub the wrong way or take me forever to fit it on. Today’s that day,” Joe shrugs. He didn't have to verbalise it but George knew “it” was referring to the prosthetic. He grasps at his shorts again, pulling them up so George could see fully. His leg was littered in scars from the accident and the surgery, some travelled up above the waistband of his shorts and George wondered to himself where they ended.

“Jesus, Joe,” George mumbles.

“It’s stupid, I know. It’s not that bad,” Joe says.

“No, no. It’s not stupid. It’s understandable,” George argues. “I mean, hell, I don’t know how you do what you do. If I was in your shoes I definitely wouldn’t be as fit as you are. Physically fit, I mean. Obviously. You’re kinda inspiring,” he rambles.

The corner of Joe’s lip tugs up in a smirk, “only kind of?”

George laughs, shoving him with his shoulder gently, “shut up. Asshole.” Joe chuckles softly.

“I think we’re gonna have to take a raincheck on our training today,” he sighs.

“I had a better idea anyway,” George replies, a mischievous glint in his eye.

//

“See, I told you I’d get a coffee date out of you somehow,” George smirks, clearly proud of himself. He was drinking the fruitiest, over the top summer special drink they had, whereas Joe had a plain black coffee, nothing in it.

“I never said this was a date,” Joe replies.

“I’m sorry, is there somewhere else you’d rather be?” George asks, feigning mock hurt. Joe smiles into his coffee cup, unable to believe he was in this situation. On a (sorta) date with George.

“’M sorry by the way,” Joe mumbles.

“Sorry for what?” George echoes, confusion written across his face.

Joe hesitates, “for not being able to train with you today. And also for getting annoyed with you.”

“You don’t have to apologise for not training today, honestly I’m kinda relieved because I ate left over pizza for breakfast and I didn’t want it making a second appearance,” George jokes.

“We really gotta talk about your eating habits,” Joe shakes his head, hiding a smile.

George carries on, “it’s seriously fine though, don’t even think twice about it. If we had gone ahead with that training session we wouldn’t be sat here and I kinda prefer being sat here on a date anyway.”

“Not a date,” Joe corrects him, but he was starting to see no point in denying it anymore.

George takes the moment of silence to brave the question he’s been meaning to ask for a while, “Uh, Joe, do ya mind if I ask something? It’s a little personal.”

Joe’s instincts automatically bring him back to a time where all he got was personal and invasive questions right after his accident. A time where reports would follow him around asking what he was going to do now that he couldn’t box, or when haters would flood his social medias with comments telling him how he deserved what he got.

But for some reason, looking across the table at a nervous George Luz washed away his reserved feelings and he let his guard down a little. “Yeah, George. Go on.”

“What aftershave do you use?”

It takes Joe almost a full minute to process the question. He was expecting something much worse, a deeply personal ask about his injury or recovery or something much grimmer all together.

“Uh, it’s one my sister got me for Christmas. Why?”

George’s face starts to turn red and Joe barely hears him mumbling, “because you always smell really good and it’s kind of a turn on but I also didn’t want to say anything unless it sounded creepy.”

Joe finds himself laughing, always laughing when he's around George. Not the fake laugh he would use for press or interviews or cameras but a real, genuine, from the heart laugh. And he doesn’t want that feeling to ever go away.


	4. Chapter 4

George wakes up the next morning in an unfamiliar room, under covers that are definitely  _ not  _ his childish cartoon bedding, next to someone who was still very much asleep. It takes him longer than he would care to admit to piece together the events of yesterday. George and Joe went on their coffee date, perfectly clear in his memory. They then went back to Joe’s, ordered some food and ended up kissing on Joe’s couch. George also remembers that very clearly, too.

_ Joe is pressing him further into his couch, his hip bones rough against George’s. It’s a battle for dominance but George knows he’s lost it even before Joe has him pinned down and weak under him. George’s wandering hand travels across Joe’s stomach, feeling the lines of his muscles. He had spent weeks wondering what this would feel like and it was somehow better than he pictured. _

_ He’s caught off guard by Joe’s sudden freeze in his movement. _

_ “What?” George asks, barely above a whisper. _

_ Joe hesitates and pulls himself off George, sitting upright on the couch. George, panicking that he’s done something wrong, moves further away from Joe and tries to collect his thoughts. Then he finally realises what caused Joe’s sudden withdrawal. The fabric of his shorts had ridden up slightly, his metal prosthetic bright and contrasting heavily with the warmer tones of his skin. Joe doesn’t have to say what he’s thinking, George knows. _

_ “Do you want to keep it on or take it off?” He asks, hoping it was the right thing to say. _

_ “Huh?” Joe asks, pulling his eyes away from the metal to look at George. _

_ “On or off? I’m good with either,” George clarifies. _

_ Joe struggles for words, “I, um, I don’t know. I’ve not done it - like this before.” He thinks about it for a moment, before deciding. “Off, but it’s easier if we’re on my bed.” _

_ George smirks, “show me the way.”  _

He’s pulled from his memories by a shift in the bed, Joe was awake. He turns to face George and for once he looks calm and at ease.

“Mornin’,” George mumbles, taking this moment to appreciate how goddamn beautiful Joe Toye actually was.

“Morning,” Joe replies, “you’re still here,” he adds quickly with a tone of surprise.

“Well of course I am, when a beautiful human such as yourself invites me into his bed, you can bet your ass I ain’t leaving until I’m forced to,” George declares, smiling a little. “What’s with the tone of surprise?” He asks on a more serious note.

“You’re the first person who’s seen me without it, I thought it would have freaked you or something,” Joe replies, indicating to the metal prosthetic that was propped up against the bed where he left it.

George shrugs, “it’s just a leg, plus the guys won’t believe me when I tell them I slept with a cyborg.”

Joe lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head and resting it on George’s shoulder. “I’m serious, it doesn’t bother me at all,” George mumbles, nuzzling his nose against Joe’s head. Joe smiles, unable to shake the warm feeling in his chest.

“Breakfast?” He asks, pulling back a little to look at George.

“Hell yes!”

//

At some point, their work out sessions turn into work out and flirt until someone submits and they end up doing something other than boxing. Most times it was them at Joe’s house, although after tonight’s session George had brought him back to his apartment, forgetting that Perconte was having a few friends over.

Joe has George pressed against the door, his mouth attacking the soft skin in his favourite spot just under his ear as George struggles for the keys. Finding out the door was already unlocked, he swings it open and expects the room to be empty, but it’s anything but.

Perconte’s dealing cards from their Cards Against Humanity box out and there’s five, wait no six, of George’s friends sat around his living room. And they’re all looking at him. George can feel the mark on his neck and he knows it’ll develop into a dark bruise but that’s the least of his concerns at the moment.

“Luz! Sit down, join us!” Nix grins, knowing an awkward situation when he sees one.

“Frank, you said you weren’t home tonight,” George manages through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than the ground to open both him and Joe up and swallow them whole.

Frank’s struggling to hide his grin, he shrugs and distracts himself with the cards to avoid bursting out into a full laughing fit.

If it wasn’t Joe, George would be laughing about this already and making jokes. But it was Joe, the same Joe who was terrified of things like this and the same Joe who had asked George if they could keep their relationship lowkey for a while.

“Oh, shit George! You didn’t tell us Joe was so fuckin’ hot!” Liebgott blurts out, ignoring the elbow in the side he received from Webster.

“Sorry about this, let’s go back to yours,” George mumbles, grabbing Joe and trying to pull him away from his gawking friends. But Joe doesn’t budge, he smiles warmly at George and pulls him back inside.

“We could stay for a bit, play a game or two?” He offers, taking George completely by surprise.

“Yeah, sure, that sounds great!” George agrees, sitting next to Carwood who had moved over to make space for the two of them on the floor.

Perconte deals out another set of cards to Joe and George before shuffling the piles again. “You ever played before?” He asks Joe who was looking at his cards a bit confused.

“Nah, only seen it online,” Joe replies.

Perconte quickly explains the rules of the game to him, showing him an example. Joe, being a quick learner, got the hang of it quickly and they start the game officially.

Between awful card combinations and terrible jokes, George gets more of an idea of Joe’s sense of humour. Blunt and to the point, the opposite of his. But he liked it, Joe had always been able to make him laugh no matter the occasion.

“Okay, Joe, I gotta ask. Why the fuck are you seeing our Luz? I mean I know he’s funny but that’s about all he’s got going for him,” Perconte asks.

George glares at him but he ignores it, carrying on with his mini ramble, “I mean you’re one of the best boxers I’ve ever seen, and George over here holds the record for the most slices of pizza eaten in ten minutes.”

“A record I’m very proud to own, thank you very much,” George cuts in, smiling to himself.

Joe chuckles, squeezing George’s thigh with his hand that was resting on it. “I guess he distracted me enough with his jokes I didn’t realise what I was getting myself into until it was too late.”

“Hey!” George protests, but everyone else’s laughter at Joe’s response drowned it out.

“He’s also the most genuine person I’ve met and doesn’t care that I  _ used  _ to be the best boxer in the world,” Joe adds a little quieter. George beams at that response, shuffling closer to him.

“Damn, I just thought y’all were doing it,” Nix whistles, ignoring the look he was getting from Winters.

“The sex is pretty great too,” George adds.

“Shut up, Luz,” Joe mumbles, George grinning at the banter that was flowing so naturally between Joe and his friends, almost as if he was meant to be here.

A few hours later when the game was up and the drinks are gone, everyone started to slowly make their way home. Carwood and Ron were the last to leave, Carwood pulling George aside to talk to him quickly.

“I’m happy for you guys, you look good together,” Carwood says, smiling as he looks over fondly at Ron, who was stood talking to Joe.

“Thanks, Lip. I’m happy too,” George smiles.

“Do you want me to give him the whole ‘look after George or Ron’ll kill you’ talk?” He asks, smirking a little.

“Nah, I think he knows that. Plus it’s a lot more believable coming from Ron himself, so if I do need it I’ll ask Ron. No offence, you’re just not scary enough,” George laughs at the look of offence on Carwood’s face. “You know it’s true.”

Carwood sighs and agrees, “Ron’s got the whole ‘murder face’ down.”

“You’re the first person I’d come to if I needed anything else, just not anything remotely scary. Or violent. Or illegal,” George states.

“Okay, we’re leaving before you can offend me further,” Carwood says, laughing as he leaves with Ron. George says goodnight to them and tells Frank not to bother them, before finally retreating to his bedroom with Joe.

“I like your friends,” Joe announces as George closes the door behind him, “they’re nice.”

“They’re also massive pains in the asses, but they can be okay sometimes,” George says, coming to sit next to Joe on his bed. “Sorry they took you a little off guard there, I didn’t know Perco had them all ‘round tonight.”

Joe shakes his head, “I didn’t mind, it’s been a while since I’ve hung out like that with people.”

George looks confused so Joe explains. “After losing a limb you kinda find out who your real friends are.”

“I’m sure there’s easier ways to find out than that,” George jokes, before regretting it.

Thankfully, Joe lets out a small laugh, “yeah, it’s just nice to be included again,” he admits. George leans forward and kisses him gently.

“You’re always included with me, I promise.”

Joe kisses him back, soft and sweet, “I know, thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not a representation of the real men, this work is based off the portrayals in the HBO mini series. No disrespect intended towards the real war veterans. Not edited.


End file.
